❝who you are is who you are under circumstance.❞

-halsey, music artist

♛

AS BELLAMY AND I rush to the edge of the water, Jones passes the dripping wet radio to Raven. She takes it and starts toying with some of the snapped parts where the wires have been ripped. Her face scrunches up as she examines it from all sides.

"Can you fix it?" Clarke asks hopefully.

"Maybe," Raven replies with a tinge of indifference in her flat voice. "But it'll take half a day just to dry out the components to see what's broken."

"We'll wait as long as it takes," I assert with urgency. "As long as there's a possibility, that's fine with me."

"Like I said, it's too late," Bellamy says dryly, arms crossed over his chest.

Clarke darts at him with an outraged expression. She stops inches from his face. "Do you have any idea what you did? Do you even care?"

"You asked me to help," Bellamy retorts with a blank look. He's acting much differently than he had with me a few seconds ago. "I helped."

"Three hundred people are gonna die today because of you!" Clarke exclaims, usually tough demeanor crumbling before us. I suck in a surprised breath. They're already preforming volunteer sacrifices?

"Hold up," Raven calls over their bickering. Everyone turns to her, prepared to listen. "We don't have to talk to the Ark. We just have to let them know we're down here, right?"

I don't see where she's going with this, but I trust her judgment. She's a mechanic and seems to be pretty well educated for how young she is. We could use a good brain around here.

"Yeah, but how do we do that with no radio?" Finn asks. I jerk my head toward him to emphasize that I'm wondering the same thing.

A knowing smile forms on Raven's face.

A few moments after she's explained her plan to us - which is genius, by the way - everyone is set into motion. We have torn apart the pod she landed in and removed the most important pieces of equipment inside, along with a few parts of the dropship. Finn and another boy are carrying the main heart with the controls. I'm shredding my hands even more as I rip apart the metal on the outside of the pod.

"We need to launch those flares ASAP if we have any hope of saving those people," Raven announces above everyone's work, projected voice laced with natural authority. "Finn, get that control panel to camp." She walks to me and nods in approval. "Fallon, pull out those firing circuits in one piece or they won't work. Clarke, can I have a hand?"

I sigh heavily as Clarke jumps up eagerly to assist Raven. My hand sticks further into the wiring of the pod, trying to decipher which ones are the firing circuits. There are tangles of red, blue, yellow, and green coils. I take a chance and guess at the red.

As I yank gently, one of the yellow wires rips and grazes the skin just below my pinky finger. I yelp as a slight electric shock courses through me. The tiny hairs on my arms stand up and I shudder.

I try again, much more cautiously this time, and pull the red wires. They all snap out in one piece - just like Raven instructed - and I sigh in relief. I make sure that I don't touch any more open circuits as I twist uncomfortably to wrench my arm out.

I hold the red wires in both hands and notice my fingers are covered in slimy, black machine oil. My nose crinkles at the acidic stench that drifts up my nostrils and displeases every sense I have. With a grunt, I push myself to a standing position, hearing my knees crack as I do so.

Raven and Clarke are engaged in what looks like an important conversation. Clarke is removing bolts from the pod with a bulky wrench. Raven is standing beside her, occasionally giving pointers. I barely catch the words, "I've never seen anyone love someone the way she loves you. You know that, right?"

Clarke's lips press into a thin line as her eyes drift to the grass beneath them. She continues slowly loosening one of the bolts. "I did." Upon noticing Raven's look of confusion, she adds, "It's complicated."

I briefly wonder who they're talking about. Charlotte? Octavia? Heck, I don't know. I never know anything about Clarke anymore. I know just as much about her now as I know about Jasper or Monty- and that's very little information.

Raven spots me and her eyes drift to the wires clutched tightly in my hands. "You good there, Fallon?"

I nod, my voice cracking as I reply, "Yeah." My throat rumbles as I clear it as best as I can with the painful lump that's forming. "What do you want me to do now?"

Raven jerks her head in the direction of camp. "Head back. Help Finn with the control panel- we should be there soon."

I nod again and let my feet carry me back to camp, feeling like I'm trying to walk with weights chained to my ankles. The pit of sadness inside of me makes its way deeper and deeper until it is almost a bottomless void. I'm slowly losing hope despite Monty and Jasper's advice. Where did Clarke and I go wrong?

Hours full of hard work pass before we're all set up. The boy who had been helping Finn carry the control panel turns it on and flicks a few switches. The lights shine and some keys blink to life.

Everyone in camp is slowly gathering around our creation. The flares are being set up, their metal bottles laid against poles from the pod. I rub my cleaned thumb against my lips as I stand in the midst of the hurried actions of everyone setting up. My eyes are locked on the night sky. I can't shake the nervous feeling from me, how my stone heart is pounding as we race against time to save these three hundred innocent lives.

Clarke stands beside me and gives me a warm smile. I give her a twitch of my lip back, barely a grin. She doesn't notice the pain etched behind it and turns her attention forward. Bellamy is close by as well, standing just behind the two of us. I can't imagine what he's feeling right now. Does he have hope?

The flares ignite with a scorch of sizzling sound and blinding purple light. They shoot up into the sky with loud zooms, sparks and smoke raining down on us. Cheers erupt from the crowd as they soar into the sky, blasting off like fireworks even higher. A small smile works its way onto my lips as I see them fly.

"We did it," Bellamy mumbles so quietly that I just barely hear it. I turn around and see him with an almost relieved expression as he watches the flares shoot upward. The lights are reflecting in his dark eyes. His skin is bathed in a pinkish glow that complements all of his dark features nicely.

"Yeah, we did," I reply quietly with the smile still apparent. He looks down at me and takes his bottom lip between his teeth, the tiniest of beams lifting the corners of his mouth.

Three more flares set off soaring into the night, causing even more elated cheers. Even when I close my eyes, their blinding radiance is still imprinted in the black. It's truly extraordinary to see how beautiful they are.

"You think they can see it from up there?" Bellamy asks with a hint of doubt behind his tone. I truly hope he's not losing faith already.

"I don't know," Clarke replies after a second of thought. "I hope so. Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?" Bellamy turns and gives her an 'are-you-serious' look, one eyebrow raised. Clarke shakes her head. "Forget it."

"I wouldn't even know what to wish for," Bellamy admits quietly with a sniffle. I can feel my heart clench for him. How can one's life be so pained that they have nothing to look forward to at all?

"Well, I do," I say, facing the sky again. "But I'd need about a thousand stars."

Bellamy pinched his eyebrows quickly before returning them to their natural state. "What about you, Clarke?"

Clarke's eyes slowly drift from him to my direction, and for a fraction of a second I think she may actually be looking at me. Hope and joy ignite in me, sending off a smile onto my lips. Then I see Finn standing a ways from us with Raven cuddled into his side. The elation flicks off and I feel my eyes brim with a small amount of tears.

I start to wonder if there is hope after all.

Minutes after the last flares go off, most go to bed and Bellamy is struck with a startling realization- no one has seen Octavia for hours. He has stolen a torch from some poor girl, waving it around frantically in search of his little sister.

"Octavia!" he calls through the soundless camp. He lifts up the edge of a closed tent to reveal a boy inside, who shouts in protest. He lets the fabric fall from his fist and continues on his quest.

"Relax, she's probably just in need of some alone time," I assure him. He jumps and turns to face me, squinting to see in the darkness. He apparently hadn't noticed me idling around.

"You're awake?" Bellamy questions as he eyes me up and down. I'm not sure how I must look to him, with my oily hair and dirt-smudged face. At least I'm not half as bad as some of us. I haven't bothered to worry about my appearance anymore since we're all pretty much disheveled-looking.

"Well, I'm here right now, aren't I?" I retort with an amused look, eyebrows raised. I step closer to him and stop a foot away, feeling the heat from the torch even from my distance. It warms my cheeks and causes my eyes to start stinging a bit. "I'll keep an eye out. You don't have to worry."

Bellamy's shiny skin is illuminated by the fire, casting numerous shadows across his face depending on how he angles it. They create a strange atmosphere that I can't quite decipher, one of a mutual respect and something else. "It's my job to do, not yours. Go to sleep."

He walks past me in search of his sister. I quickly tag along, hurrying to keep up with his steady, long steps. "I can't," I lie. "I don't have a tent."

He doesn't even hesitate with his response. "Sleep in mine."

That catches me way off guard. I'm stunned by his words, eyes going wide as they sink in. Bellamy wants me to sleep in his tent? "Wh-What?"

"You heard me," he answers offhandedly, amused at my flustered expression. A blush flushes my cheeks until they're red and I'm grateful that the torch provides a naturally firey glow to obscure it. "I'm gonna be up most of the night anyway. You can crash in there."

I wonder if I should take up his offer. Sleeping with blankets and pillows instead of moss and leaves would be a good change. Then I remember the countless girls he's slept with in there, and all that goes down the drain. A shiver of disgust shoots down my spine. "I'm good, thanks."

Bellamy rolls his eyes as we near Finn's tent. "Your loss." He bends over the opening of it, surprised to reveal Clarke inside. She sits beside Finn's bed as he sleeps soundly, shoulder-length hair fanning his face. Clarke's eyes are locked on the ground, hands folded nervously in her lap. "You're still up?"

She turns to see us peeking in and stands, squinting at the light from the torch. She ducks her head and climbs out of the tent with a dry look on her face. "Yeah. Knowing hundreds of people could be dying in the Ark makes it pretty hard to sleep."

Bellamy shifts his weight and gives her an annoyed glance. "Raven's flares will work." He sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than her; again I feel the clench of pity.

Clarke's lips form a line and her demeanor hardens. "Her radio would have worked better."

A somber expression passes Bellamy's face and something flickers in his eyes. He chooses to ignore her statement, though I can tell it has hurt him. "Have you seen Octavia?"

"No," she responds, not sounding worried in the slightest. "It's Octavia. She's probably chasing butterflies."

I snort a laugh, remembering the time when O had found the bright purple butterflies and was mesmerized by them. The way their wings glittered in the sun's rays that peeked through the trees and splashed color all around her. I can only pray that's what she's actually doing now.

"Clarke, I've checked the camp," Bellamy says firmly with an edge in his tone, giving me a quick glare for laughing. "She's not here."

Clarke is momentarily silent. Finally, her eyes drift to me and we share a brief look of understanding. We now know how serious the situation is. I feel a bit guilty for having found the joke amusing.

"We'll help you," I tell Bellamy, coming up close to him. He turns and appears to be grateful for the assistance. His expression softens a bit and his lips even turn upward in the smallest of grins.

Clarke turns away from the tent and begins to walk quickly, with Bellamy and I following behind. "Let's check again," she suggests. "Bellamy, go to the dropship. Fallon and I will check the rest of the tents."

"Thank you," Bellamy mutters lowly, but I can still hear the gratitude in his voice. He leans ever so slightly toward us.

"Don't thank me," Clarke dismisses coldly. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for Octavia."

Bellamy's face goes slack and turns to a cloud of despair. Even I feel a punch at Clarke's words- not because they hurt me, but because it's finally able to sink in.

She is not the same person I'd grown up on the Ark with. She has changed, and I'm not sure if it's for the better.

--------

LOOK AT THE GIF. LOOK AT IT. I'M SO GLAD I FOUND IT. WOW.

-kristyn